Ties That Bind
((Original thread is located here. This story takes place immediately following the events in What Nightmares May Come.)) Prologue The room around him was in shambles. He would pay the innkeep enough to rebuild the entire inn, later, but he had needed to release the pressure inside before it destroyed him. The room may have been shattered, but he was once again solid as stone. His mind replayed the memories... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The head was the last part of the body to hit the ground, making a sickening crack as it smacked against the stone floor. He forgot about the others as he approached the head and kneeled down beside it. "You are free now, Shan'do." "There... you are strong. I had hoped it would be you..." the voice was distant, just a low rumble, barely audible if not for his Kaldorei hearing. "I have come. It is over now." "Do not blame your Father. He is simply following his nature. If you must blame someone, blame me. I took the darkness that was overwhelming him and forged it into him." For a moment she had seemed unaware of those gathered around her and then her eye swiveled to look directly at Durgaraf. "Forgive me, please. I can not let it end here... the conflicts continue and my charges are still young." The great big eye turned in the other direction now. "Please... forgive me. I am sorry." Durgaraf placed a hand on her scaly cheek. "What forgiveness is mine to give, you already have." He stood up solemnly, turned towards the massive chest which still rose and fell with shallow and plunged the uloph-talah, the very embodiment of a Warder, deep into Therashar's heart. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ "WHERE IS HAKAGE!?" "I don't know, Warder! They were sleeping here and then they stopped breathing and I was really scared and then Malaechi was gone and then Hakage jumped at me and ran off." Nara was holding a small piece of linen over a freshly opened wound in her arm. Just a scratch really, but a scratch from a cat of that size was still considerable. Yasic was just standing up from where he lay. "YASIC! What happened?!" "I couldn't hear... Hakage and the dragon spoke but we were... held... couldn't breathe. I think the dragon touched Hakage... she seemed sad... Where's Hakage?" "Sort yourselves out. I have to find my daughter." He wheeled Sirion around and darted off without saying anything else. Therashar's last words began to ring in his ears. "I'm sorry..." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ And now here he was. Six thousand years as a Warder and once again he had failed to keep his own daughter safe. Once, over a century ago, he had been escorting her to Ashenvale when she was kidnapped by a band of trolls. He had carved through the entire band to get back to her. And he would do so again. Nothing was more important than his daughter. Nothing. ----- He watched her sleeping beneath the Tree. She seemed at peace here. When she was awake he could see his daughter in the way the cat moved but there was no sign of her in those emerald eyes, just the gaze of a beast. She was in there somewhere though and he would find her and bring her back. He wouldn't accept anything else. After all, this was his fault. If he had never done that, never met Therashar, never become a Warder, never left Kalimdor, never asked his sole surviving Shan'do to follow, never conceded to allow his Shan'do to teach his daughter, never permitted her to engage that Shan'do on the Emerald Dream… then he wouldn't be sitting up here wondering how long it would be before he could see her smile again. The wind shifted suddenly, bringing with it a vaguely familiar scent. "Ishnu'alah…" His gravelly voice seemed small on the breeze above Elwynn. Pulling himself to his feet he turned to see the newcomer. With long white hair, with a small tail bound at the nape of the neck, and a trimmed beard and golden eyes he was clad in a fine robe and carried a smooth staff made of a pale, almost white, wood. A stylized falcon, identical to the one on Durgaraf's sword marked the head of his staff. "Faengolf ." The other Warder replied in smooth, patient Darnassian ((translated here for the convenience of the reader)). "Greetings, Durgaraf." He bowed respectfully and smiled as Durgaraf did the same. "It has been some time. When was the last time we met? Silithis? I heard you were at Hyjal but I regret we never met there. We would have made a potent force once again. Still, I hear you accomplished well enough on your own. Captain Lamdrim is using that story to inspire her troops, did you know?" "How Captain Lamdrim wishes to conduct her troops is not my affair." The druid smiled at Durgaraf's words and calmly climbed the rest of the way to stand next to him. "It is good to see some things remain solid as stone no matter how much time has past. Why, I imagine that if Malfurion himself asked you to be happy you would frown. You really should lighten some. The weight we carry will break you some day if you don't." "Why are you here Faengolf? Last I heard you were guarding Moonglade." "I was, but then the Circle gave me a new mission. It is a tragedy when the great Greens fall to something such as the Nightmare. I am sure you can imagine my surprise when I journeyed to the Sunken Temple and could not find the corrupted on either plane. I had thought that since she had been destroyed that I would be invited to return to Moonglade. Unfortunately, it seems that the great one's essence was not utterly cleaned from the world and I have been tasked with ensuring that no remnant remains." The two men stood shoulder to shoulder, stone still as the wind moved their hair and clothing about them. Each eye, both golden and silver, was on the slumbering panther near the Tree. For a long time they had no company but the wind. "I cannot allow you to do that." Faengolf sighed and shook his head. "I was afraid of that." With no further warning his staff shot out and only a last second maneuver kept it from colliding with Durgaraf's head. The black-clad Warder landed on his feet with the uloph-talah in his hands. The blade gleamed even in the sunlight, terrible and cold in the finality that it promised to all. Faengolf calmly turned around for all intents and purposes with a sad expression on his face. "I had hoped you would at least listen to reason, but then, you never have." Durgaraf struck out, spinning into a backhanded blow shortly followed by his sword. A lesser opponent would have been stunned and then beheaded but Faengolf dodged both without ever moving his feet. "No, you were always the one with indeterminable will. Not one for reason when there is a war to be fought, and for you the war never ends." The staff spun even faster than the sword, catching Durgaraf in the calf and sending him to the ground where he turned the fall into a roll and was back on his feet. "Please don't misunderstand, it is certainly nothing personal. I have a mission and I must see it through. You of all people understand that." A lunge won Durgaraf a slash across Faengolf's chest but it cost him a blow to the stomach. Ultimately neither warrior would be dissuaded so simply. "In fact, I've often looked up to you. You are the oldest now you know. Ioma died at Hyjal, apparently facing one of the Eredar in single combat. He won at the cost of his own life but I understand you had your own… accomplishments in that battle." "You will not take my daughter." Durgaraf's gaze held no warmth. This man had once been his friend, often had been a companion of his in innumerable battles, but now he was the enemy. Nothing else mattered as he spun into another attack, striking out in a diagonal slash with his uloph-talah. At the same moment, Faengolf twisted the upper portion of his staff and the smooth wide wood separated along an invisible line revealing shimmering silver within. Metal clashed against metal and then the impossible happened. Durgaraf's sword, endowed with the blessing of Elune and the very symbol of the only life he had ever really known, the uloph-talah shattered. As the bits of metal fractured and fell, he felt his spirit do the same. Elune had denied him... denied his Oath. Seeing the broken blade fall to the ground he simply... stopped. The druid warder however, hardly slowed. In the same motion he pulled the blade free of the staff sheath and sank it into Durgaraf's left shoulder, cutting clean through to the other side. The blade was in and out in and instant and as Durgaraf remained stunned he was struck with a blow that dropped him to his knees quickly followed by a kick that sent him flipping through the air. Before the wounded Kaldorei could climb back up, vines sprung up from the ground and held him down. As the dust settled, Faengolf studied the now restrained father and if anything he seemed sad. "I truly wish that had not happened, that this was not necessary. You were Durgaraf, the Dark Wolf, named by the fabled Therashar herself, an immovable resolute granite guardian of our peoples. To see you like this... well it does not lighten my heart. I will be saddened by this day for many years to come. Durgaraf is dead..." The druid sighed, honestly mournful, and turned back to his quarry. Awoken, Hakage crouched a few meters from the Tree, a low guttural growl emanating from her throat. She began to leap just as vines ensnared her and bound her to the ground. She snarled savagely and bit down on the vines futilely, green eyes glaring a feral hatred. "Careful now, we wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Without so much as a gesture the Warder set her to sleep and moved to stand over her. "This is rather sad as well. I'm sure you can imagine the Circle's situation. They only just learned that Therashar had traveled here, apparently at your request, some months ago. They didn't even know she'd taken on another thero'shar . I'm sure you're aware how little the Cenarion Circle appreciates new druids that it has no connection to. Is Druidess Dreamstrider here or did she assist you with slaying the Green? I'm sure if she is then she must be resting... You would have needed someone to destroy the Green's form in the Emerald Dream, and it would appear that your daughter fell to one of the traps within the Dream. Poor thing." As Faengolf reminisced he ran a hand gently along Hakage's be-furred jaw, aware but unheeding of the Other's struggles against the vines that held him close. "The Green has... 'possessed' her it seems, though that is not the right word for it... 'Joined' would be more suitable I suppose. The mind is confused, and the green's most basic and savage nature has gained prominence in that confusion. I may not have to kill her it seems, Old One." Faengolf looked over his shoulder and smiled back at the Father. "Though I'm afraid that she will always be in this form, never able to assume full consciousness. I will try my best, for your sake if not for hers." A green glow surrounded Faengolf as he knelt beside the suspended panther and gently held her head in his hands. The wounded Kaldorei fought his constraints, heedless of the open wound in his shoulder, and blood pooled on the soil beneath him. He was no longer a Warder, his Oath broken and shattered with his sword and with it the oaths he had taken as Durgaraf, but that was his blood the Druid was about to imprison. As big as he was he could not break loose of the vines. He reached out to the vines with his broken spirit and tried to make them feel his need, to ask them for sympathy. He was vaguely aware of his arm going numb and the world fading away as blood continued to drain from him. When the vines actually loosened enough for him to move he could not even register surprise. She could feel Therashar still inside her but now something had come between them. Therashar was aware of it as well, and if she was relieved that the chaos had ended, she was not pleased that someone else was poking around inside this skull. Hakage was floating in the back of her mind only vaguely aware of what was going on but she knew Therashar did... something... was that an attack? The other receded and Therashar disappeared. Suddenly Hakage was alone in her mind again, fully in control of her own body and mind. Her eyes shot open to see a golden-eyed druid kneeling over her with a bewildered look on his face, as if someone had just slapped him in the face and he was unsure where it had come from. He knelt there for only a second before his neck blossomed and the falcon took flight from his lifeblood. He grasped at the broken end of the uloph-talah, mouth working wordlessly, and fell over, revealing her Father, wobbling on his knees behind him, arm still extended from the throw. No sooner did the druid hit the ground than he followed after, collapsing limply to the soil. Epilogue He ran his hand through the misty grey hair, freed of the barding that lay on the ground. Sirion turned around and rubbed a huge jowl against him, a deep low purr emanating from the huge nightsaber’s throat. Shingetsu smiled and a scratched the cat behind its ear for a few moments. The moonlight reflected off the mount’s coat, making it glow in the night beneath the trees. They stood there for a few moments and then he clicked and patted the beast’s shoulder. Sirion looked at him with great, glowing eyes and then when he nodded it padded off into the night. Shingetsu smiled. The mount would probably return to its home, probably in Winterspring. He was glad he had brought it across the ocean to Darkshore one last time. Turning he knelt on the ground and Tilion appeared out of the shadows. The panther’s black coat blended into the shadows around him, making him a pair of bright green eyes in the darkness. The burn mark from the Finger was simply just a darker patch in the darkness. Shingetsu handed him a last meal and sat on his haunches watching the nightsaber consume it. After a few moments, he stood up and turned to walk away while Tilion still ate. A moment later he was knocked to the ground as the nightsaber tackled him. They rolled over, re-enacting their many wrestling matches over the years, neither really besting the other. When it was done, Tilion turned, recognizing that something very basic and fundamental had changed; the panther gave him one last green-eyed glance and then faded away into the shadows. That farewell hurt nearly as much as saying farewell to Felena and Winter’s End had. Of course, the biggest parting still lay ahead. Hours later he sat on his own on a rocky outcrop overlooking Darkshore. He had vague memories of his life here before Therashar, before being a Warder, before Ailinel. It seemed appropriate that his life should begin here again. He pulled the stopper out of a bottle of ink and, stopping every few words to think, slowly wrote out his message in free flowing darnassian script. He wrote of his past, for the first time in six thousand years, describing the events that had turned Shingetsu Moonsong, into Warder Durgaraf. It was difficult to pen the letters and he paused many times before he was done, reflecting on the words to use. Finally he sealed the note and addressed it carefully to “Priestess Ailinel Frostmoon, widow of Warder Durgaraf Frostmoon.” Freedom and new life beckoned but the pain of rebirth runs deep...